Dancing with Fire
by teabean
Summary: Tristan's the King and Rory thinks she can change him, but he has a dark secret, one that will bring them together and tear them apart... Chilton years, Trory with a twist.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Gilmore Girls, actors, characters, plots, etc, that would be the wonderful people at WB. Although if I did, I'm pretty sure there'd be some big changes coughChadcough. Anyway if you do feel inclined to sue me, some people have strange urges and we must accept them for who they are, I'm currently flat broke so all you will get is a used textbook, probably on organic chemistry.

Summary: Meet Tristan Du Gray, rich, hot, smart, the boy with it all and he wants everyone to know it. Then there's Rory Gilmore, beautiful, intelligent and has no idea about it… and is completely unaffected by Tristan, or so she keeps telling herself. But there's a secret, a deep, dark, dangerous secret that will bring them together and tear them apart.

AN: I have to admit, I did say I was going to try not to start anything new, but 'try' is the operative word. I had this other idea in my head that was just itching to be written, so here it is. I hope you like it.

Dedicated to all my serial reviewers, you deserve a special mention and this chapter is for you!

Chapter 1 

A tall blonde, blue-eyed boy walked, no, swaggered up to the door. He passed lines of luxury European cars, but he barely glanced at them, on his arms were two scantily-clad girls, clinging to him like two overly made-up, under-dressed barnacles, batting their false eyelashes up at him. A small group of well-dressed boys and under-dressed girls trailed after him, like a mock entourage. The door opened even before the boy reached it. Loud music burst out of the open door way as slightly tipsy girl stumbled out, she grinned wildly at the blonde boy and his band of followers.

"Tristan Du Gray," she laughed happily, wrapping her slender arms around his neck, she placed a loud kiss on his lips, "I'm so glad you could make it."

"Hey, Louise," the blonde boy, Tristan, drawled back, a lazy smirk, tugged at his lips, "I see you've been enjoying yourself."

He made no move to disentangle himself from the girl as she dragged him into the palatial house, the location of that night's party-to-be-seen-at. The two girls, who he had been 'escorting' trailed after him, alternatively glaring at each other and at Louise's back. The rest of his entourage peeled off, disappearing into the rest of the mansion.

"Not, really," Louise replied, pouting playfully, "It's just been me and my good friend vodka straight up, but now you're here, the fun can really begin."

"Straight up?" Tristan asked, still smirking, but concern crept into his voice.

"Yeah, you know how it is. I thought he was the one, Mr Right, and all that bullshit, but no," Louise frowned slightly, before cheering up again, she smiled suggestively, "I heard that Liam and Brooke broke up."

"What happened with you and what's-his-face?" Tristan persisted, ignoring Louise's question about his friend's latest dating escapade.

"He didn't think we were 'right for each other'," Louise tried not to grimace, remembering the exact words, "He said it wasn't going to work as long I wasn't swallowing."

White-hot anger burst through Tristan's veins, livid, he wanted to throttle the guy who would even dare to treat a girl so badly.

"It's okay, he and I are over," Louise said softly, placing a reassuring hand on his arm, "Truth is, he never really measured up, in all senses."

Tristan smirked, more to reassure Louise than anything else.

"It'd explain his car then?" he replied, earning him a smile from the girl.

"The car, the house, the nickname," she answered with a wicked grin, "Honestly, his shoe size, or lack thereof, should have tipped me off earlier."

Almost reflexively, Louise glanced down at the blonde boy's feet.

"Like what you see?" Tristan whispered in the girl's ear.

His smirk grew into a fully-fledged grin as he noted the blush that bloomed on the girl's cheeks, a very rare occurrence on the anything-but-prudish Louise.

"I'll have to see more than your shoes, before I can answer that," Louise replied, reverting back to her usual non-blushing self, she ran a finger along Tristan's jaw line.

"Louise, you know I like you too much to sleep with you?" Tristan replied softly, for once his tone was serious.

"Yeah, I know, you tell me that at least once a day," she sighed, a little disappointed but far from surprised.

"Because you hit on me at least once a day," he reminded her, smirking again.

"Oh, let's dance," Louise said, brightening up, she led him into another part of the house that had been cleared for a dance floor.

The crowd already burning up the floor quickly swallowed up the pair as they proceeded to dance the night away.

--

By 8:30 on Tuesday morning the summer's over-the-top partying had been forced aside for the start of the new school year, still the hallowed halls of Chilton Academy literally buzzed with drunken, overly-tanned gossip. In the short stroll from his car to his locker, Tristan had learned that Lizzy Andrews would not be returning that year because she was pregnant. Apparently the product of a rebellious moment between little Miss Perfect and the pool boy, who had also been having an affair with Lizzy's mother. Tyson West's parents had supposedly come home from a little vacation in the Bahamas to find their precious son in bed with _their_ pool boy, thus ensuing a rather ungraceful coming out for Tyson. And Mr and Mrs Machevilla had been experimenting in the bedroom when they were caught by, you guessed it, their pool boy, they tried to buy his silence with an Audi… but from the raging gossip, it sounded like he wanted the Benz. Apparently pool boys get all the action, thought Tristan smirking.

"Newbie at 2 o'clock," reported Stone Lyeton.

Who names their kid 'Stone', Tristan wondered inwardly, barely contain his disdain for the boy, who trailed after him like a lost puppy.

"She's hot, if you dig the virginal look," added Jason Whitely, another of Tristan's so-called friends.

Finally Tristan turned his head to look at the boys' object of attention.

"A Mary," Tristan murmured, taking in the girl's look of pure, naïve innocence, she looked like a lamb before slaughter.

"You want her, Du Gray?" Stone asked eagerly.

"Maybe," Tristan shrugged dismissively, he couldn't show too much interest, it wasn't his style.

"So then she's available?" Jason enquired slyly.

Something in his tone didn't sit well with Tristan.

"No, I didn't say that," he replied, trying not to sound irritated.

He felt his friends staring at him, but as the late bell rang, he brushed them aside, heading to his first class of the day. Maybe Mary would be there.

--

AN: Read, review, read, review, read, review, read, review, read, review, read, review… I'm trying to burn that into your mind, indoctrinate, I believe is the word, only I'm not that evil and I'm not trying to take over the world. Except for every second Wednesday when I go to power-hungry-dictators-anonymous, my sponsor says I've really improved. I'm nice, I write stories. You like stories, right?


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Gilmore Girls, actors, characters, plots, etc, that would be the wonderful people at WB. Although if I did, I'm pretty sure there'd be some big changes coughChadcough. Anyway if you do feel inclined to sue me, some people have strange urges and we must accept them for who they are, I'm currently flat broke so all you will get is a used textbook, probably on organic chemistry.

**AN:** Wow, it's been a long time since I started this story, I hope no one was holding their breath in anticipation of a new chapter! Thank you for reading and fo all the reviews, they were greatly appreciated.

**Thshali:** Thank you for reading and reviewing. Hope you enjoy the update.

**Rockrose:** I hope you're still curious about this story.

**Rish:** This story's being burning a whole in my computer, thanks for reading it.

**GGluvr1987:** Thanks for reading and reviewing. Hope this story is as popular as Shades of Grey.

**Finnlover:** I hope you are still wanting to read this story, despite the wait. Thanks.

**FairyGirl07:** Thanks for liking it, or at least the first chapter. I hope you stuck around, to read this new chapter.

**Mary:** Thanks for your review. Sorry for taking so long to update.

**Chocs:** Hope you're still intrigued and I hope the story stays original. Thanks.

**Jalna:** Wow. I'd almost forgotten your long reviews… actually that's not true, they are kind of hard to forget! Thanks for taking the time to review. I hope you've been waiting for the update, sorry for the hold up.

**TristenLover:** Sorry for the slow updating, but thank you for reading.

**Allie-Allie:** Thanks and I hope you like it.

_Dedicated to anyone who was waiting for a new chapter._

Chapter 2 

Sunlight filtered through leaves the colours of fire, lighting everything in a warm, fall glow and softening the imposing, Victorian mansion. The scent of the fading summer filled the air as birds twittered and butterflies danced amongst the manicured garden, a large fountain the centrepiece, surrounded by a white-pebbled driveway. English box-hedge traced a green border, broken only by roses placed at even intervals. It was a scene straight out of an expensive house-and-garden magazine, the kind that is never actually read so much as placed strategically open on a coffee table.

But the expensive, exclusive surroundings were completely lost on Tristan, having grown up immersed in it, he barely gave it a passing glance. Instead, he sat in his luxury sports car, glancing every five seconds at his designer watch. He leaned on the horn, irritated. He hated waiting for people and every morning, without fail, his brother made him wait.

"Jack, hurry up!" he shouted, leaning out of the car.

He knew that his brother probably couldn't hear him anyway, but that was beside the point.

"Jackson Edward Du Gray, if you are not here in the next ten seconds, you're walking to school!" Tristan yelled, he checked his watch before correcting himself, "Make that running to school. I hear the ladies really dig the sweaty-marathon-runner-look before school… One… two… three – "

"Someone didn't get laid last night," Jack snapped, sliding into the car and throwing his bag onto the back seat in one fluid motion.

"And someone needs alternative transport," Tristan shot back, starting the car and driving out of the estate, "Don't you have a friend who can drive you around? Oh, wait, what am I saying? You don't have any friends."

"Ha ha, Tristan, you're a regular barrel of laughs. And I do have friends, given none of them are named 'Stone', but still."

"Stone isn't a friend," Tristan cursed the day he had been nice to the guy, "He's more like a leech, without the blood-sucking."

"Whatever," dismissed Jackson, "So what's her name?"

"Who?" Tristan asked, drumming his fingers impatiently as the double, wrought-iron gates glided open.

"You're latest girl of the week, the notch-on-the-bedpost-to-be," Jackson recited, "I heard you broke up with Leah Bradbridge a couple of days ago."

"And?" his older brother prompted, half-annoyed with the constant pestering about his love-life.

"And? Since when have you not had another girl lined up, just waiting in the wings for the signal from the great and mighty Tristan to take her moment as your girlfriend?"

"Is this because you can't get a date?" Tristan shot back, "You need to spend less time worrying about me and more time working on your own beside manner."

"Why so defensive?" Jackson prodded with a sly grin.

"Because I'm so fucking tired of people asking me about who I'm dating, if I'm single, if I'll date them/their daughter/their sister!" Tristan exclaimed suddenly, pressing hard on the brake, jolting them to an abrupt stop.

Thankfully there were no other cars on the road.

"Jesus," Jack breathed, before turning on his brother, "Are you trying to get us killed?"

Tristan said nothing in response, glaring at some point ahead of them, his hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, taking a deep breath, he exhaled slowly. After a moment, he stepped off the brake and they were moving again.

"Man, you are way too intense, you know that?" Jack began after a while.

"Shut up and I'll drive you," Tristan responded quietly, "One more comment and you're walking to school."

Jackson opened his mouth to retort something smart-arsed, but thought better of it and only managed a grunt of acknowledgment.

"And for your information," Tristan said, as he pulled into the Chilton student parking lot, "I haven't decided on this week's girl."

"Give me a name," Jack begged, "Or everyone will drive me insane, with their incessant questions."

"And you wonder why I get pissed off," Tristan replied, eyebrow raised, he reached back, grabbing his bag.

Still Jack waited, staring at him expectantly, with an expression that made him look five years old.

"Fine," Tristan relented, he had never been able to refuse his younger brother, "Mary."

Reaching across, he ruffled his brother's hair.

"Now, get lost gossip queen," he smirked as he exited the car, hearing Jackson's indignant protests.

--

It took all of one hour for the news of Tristan's latest interest to circulate completely through the Chilton halls. By second period everyone was asking the same question, just who exactly was 'Mary'?

A quick survey of the student lists revealed that there were currently three girls by the name of 'Mary' enrolled at Chilton and four more girls who had names that could be shortened to 'Mary', a total of seven. Two of those girls were negligible because Tristan had already dated them, and he never went back for seconds. A further three already had boyfriends and Tristan, despite his flirtatious behaviour, never dated girls who were not available. One could only be described as unfortunate-looking and no-one even bothered to entertain the thought of she and Tristan in the same room, much less dating. And finally the last 'Mary' was a lesbian.

"Maybe she doesn't go to Chilton?" Madeline suggested, looking up briefly from filing her already-perfect nails.

"I don't see why anybody cares," Paris replied crossly, shoving books back into her locker.

"And that's why you accosted that poor freshman into fessing up everything he might have heard?" Louise asked drily.

"I want to get to the bottom of the matter so we can all move on," Paris answered, "The world does not revolve around Tristan Du Gray and his latest conquest. Some people are here to get an education."

"Sure," Louise drawled.

"You and Tristan a close, did he tell you anything?" Paris asked, turning the attention on to Louise.

"Why do you want to know?" she asked smirking, "I thought you wanted to get an education."

"Oh, forget it," Paris huffed, slamming her locker.

"Actually, this morning is the first I've heard of the fabulous Miss Mary," Louise informed them as they walked to class.

"Maybe she doesn't exist," Madeline interrupted.

Louise and Paris shared a glance, a mixture of sympathy and frustration.

--

AN: So I wrote another chapter and I must say, I don't really like it, there's just something off about it.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Gilmore Girls, actors, characters, plots, etc, that would be the wonderful people at WB. Although if I did, I'm pretty sure there'd be some big changes coughChadcough. Anyway if you do feel inclined to sue me, some people have strange urges and we must accept them for who they are, I'm currently flat broke so all you will get is a used textbook, probably on organic chemistry.

**AN:** I'm struggling a little bit with Shades of Grey, which is very unfortunate since I know exactly where I want the story to go, it just doesn't seem to be going where I want it to. Anyway, instead I thought I'd update this instead.

For people affected by the bushfires… Chapter 3 

People who thought they knew him, believed that he was many things. Mothers thought he was charming and chivalrous, the perfect boyfriend for the precious daughters. Fathers thought he had the confidence and integrity to carry the Du Gray legacy and hoped to one day do business with him. His reputation was what most girls knew about him and that was enough for him to be given the mantle of the most sought after guy, rich, sexy with a touch of a bad boy. Boys wanted to be jealous of him, the ease at which he received everything, from the attention of women to his skill of the sports field, but they couldn't, he was far too generous and friendly to hate. No one, not a single person believed that he worked hard in every aspect of his life to achieve what he did. Even at that moment, as he studied the object of his interest, anyone passing by would say he was merely gazing on a world of which he was king.

He had already noted the fact she took the bus to and from school, that her mother was the notorious Lorelai Gilmore, that she read books more frequently that most people showered. He had observed her in the cafeteria, turning lunch into an art form with a thick book, her discman and more food on her tray than there was on the entire of the cheerleaders' table. Discretely he had watched her in class, studious, quiet and a keen student. He knew her type, he had dated her type, but even so, she struck as different.

"Would you ask her out already?" Louise asked impatiently, watching him watch her.

"I'm biding my time," Tristan replied quietly.

Two weeks had passed since he had told Jack about Mary and by now, everyone had cottoned on to her identity, everyone except the girl herself. Their encounters had been brief and each time she had brushed him off. It hadn't helped that he had been perfectly obnoxious to her. At first his attitude had been intentional, but pretty soon, even he was sick of it, but somehow, each time he approached her, it would reappear.

"Is she more than a conquest?" Louise asked, curiously.

"No," Tristan replied shortly, "Why would suggest that?"

"Because I've never seen you try so hard before, at least not for a girl."

"I'm not trying any harder than I ever have."

"But you always make it seem so natural, this time you're practically sweating, you're that nervous."

"I'm not sweating and I'm not nervous… maybe everyone is more curious this time so you notice my effort more."

"Just go up to her and be yourself," Louise encouraged, "And remember, her name is Rory, not Mary."

She pushed him forward gently and there was no subtle way for him to retreat now, other students had noticed him standing in the middle of the hallway, they stopped to watch the latest proceedings. He told himself to stand up straighter, that she was just a girl and the worst she could say was 'no'.

"Mary," he greeted her, leaning against the locker beside her's.

"What do you want?" she snapped irritably, snatching books out of her locker and shoving them into her bag.

"World peace," Tristan declared with a grin.

"World peace?" Rory answered sceptically.

"Yeah," he faltered slightly, "Well, I do want that… everyone says it, I thought I'd try it out."

"Nothing's ever simple with you, is it?" Rory frowned.

"And where is the fun in that? I am a very complex person, just ask anyone. I've been described as charming, sexy, hot, handsome – " smirked Tristan.

"Insufferable, incorrigible, annoying, arrogant, presumptive," retorted Rory.

"Says she who has yet to give me a chance. Prejudiced much?" he asked, there was an edge in his tone.

"And with an line's like that, he wonders why I won't say yes to him," she answered in the same tone.

"You don't strike me as someone who simply takes another person's word," he replied, tilting his head as if to study her further.

"Tristan," her voice was low and controlled, but he couldn't ignore the underlying annoyance, her patience pushed to the limit.

"Fine, I wanted to know if you would like a lift home," he stated matter-of-factly.

"No, I don't," she replied shortly.

"Oh, come on, are you really going to refuse a car, with air-conditioning and comfortable seats for a bus full of random strangers who may or may not have heard of personal hygiene?"

"No."

"Pardon?" Tristan asked, confused.

"I'm not taking the bus today."

"You're not?"

"No, Dean's picking me up," Rory answered happily.

"Dean?" Tristan felt his self-esteem shrink rapidly.

"My boyfriend."

"You have a boyfriend?" he asked faintly.

"Well, it's not completely official yet. I mean we're dating and I really like him. We haven't actually talked about the girlfriend-boyfriend status, but I've dated anyone before so I don't really know the procedure yet," Rory rambled, completely missing the flash of disappointment in Tristan's eyes, "Oh, gosh is that the time? Dean's probably been waiting for ages."

With a slam of her locker, and a blur of colour and movement, Rory was gone, leaving Tristan stranded by her locker, nursing his wounded pride.

"That was interesting," he murmured softly to himself, finally moving off, hoping that he could escape the school's confines before too many people found out he had been shot down again.

--

AN: Another chapter and once more, I can't seem to find the right tone… oh well. Also there are a few matters I should make clear:

Tristan has turned sixteen just before the school year, Rory is still fifteen, but will turn sixteen soon, which puts them in Year 10 according to Australian school years, which is Sophmore in the US, I think (correct me if I'm wrong).

I'm assuming that you can legally drive after the age of sixteen.

The story will stick to the basic outline of the show, but I might leave some things out

And yes, the chapters are shorter than in Shades of Grey, and will probably stay shorter.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Gilmore Girls, actors, characters, plots, etc, that would be the wonderful people at WB. Although if I did, I'm pretty sure there'd be some big changes coughChadcough. Nor do I own anything to do with Peter Allen, brilliant as he was. Anyway if you do feel inclined to sue me, some people have strange urges and we must accept them for who they are, I'm currently flat broke so all you will get is a used textbook, probably on organic chemistry.

**AN:** Don't get me wrong, I do like this story. My problem is that, in my mind I have a specific scene to write, but it just doesn't seem to translate into written words the way I want it to.

**Thshali:** Thanks for reading and the confirming what I thought. Last time I was in the US, I was a few months old, so I can't really remember what or how that stuff works and everything I else I know is from media and friends, but I have a memory like a sieve!

**GGluvr1987:** Oh, I do like this story, it's just not coming out the way I hoped it would. Thanks for liking it anyway! And Tristan always seems to have an older brother or a younger sister, thought I'd mix it up a little.

**Eternalogorithm:** Couldn't have said it better!

**Rockrose:** Thank you for staying interested and liking this little story.

**Stargirl112593:** Okay! Boy that was one demanding review, but it made me smile! Thanks.

**Mamashirl:** Thanks for clarifying those details. Where I live in Australia, you have to be 16 to get your learner license, or L's, and 18 to get you probationary license, or P's. And most high schools here are Years (not Grades) 7 to 12 so I sometimes need to translate things into American… I used to, many years ago, think Freshmen meant Year 7 and so on, and wondered how come schools in the US finished at Year 10, while everyone else went to Year 12… unless you're from New Zealand and then you're weird already!

**Sarah:** Well thank you for enjoying and for taking the time to review!

**LoVe23:** Thanks for clearing up the age thing! Personally, since we don't get full licenses until after we turn 18 in Victoria (the state I live in, in Australia), it seems weird to drive to school, especially at such a young age. But then again, in Australia, when you turn 18, you can drink, drive, smoke and vote all legally, preferably not all at the same time!

**Finnlover**: short and sweet, but I'll still take it… Thank you!

**Al:** Thank you for reading and confirming what I thought! Hope it continues to be a good story!

**Joellekyle0712:** Oh, I'm glad you find it funny! Thank you for reading.

**RavensWritingProphecies:** Love the name, love the review. Thanks for reading!

Dedicated to Australians all over the world (and anyone who wants to be an Aussie!), hope you had a happy Australia Day!… "I've been to cities that never close down. From New York to Rio and old London town. But no matter how far or how wide I roam, I still call Australia home."… go on, have a bit of a sing! Chapter 4 

It became a routine of sorts. Each afternoon, as she stuffed books and homework into an already packed bag, he would lean against the locker beside her's. He would make innuendos, she's try not to blush, until finally unable to take it any more, she would hurry off to the parking lot to be met by her boyfriend. It frustrated her that he seemed incapable of taking a hint, it frustrated him that she refused to be moved.

"It's starting to get embarrassing," commented Jack, seeing Tristan finally heading towards the parking lot.

On the days he was supposed to get a lift home with his older brother, he found himself waiting for up to half an hour by the car. He was tempted to risk not promptly arriving at Tristan's parking spot as soon as school finished, but Tristan would probably leave him stranded.

"No-one asked you to try and feed off my reputation," Tristan scowled at the younger Du Gray.

"A reputation you are running full speed into the ground."

Tristan ignored his brother, unlocking the car, he stepped in.

"I've never seen you persist so much," Jack continued as Tristan started the car, "And I've never seen a girl refuse you like this. It's like your losing your touch."

"She has a boyfriend," Tristan announced, frowning, he had kept it quiet for a few days and it surprised him that no one had noticed her going home with another guy.

"No way," Jack laughed, "Sucks to be you. So why are you still pursuing her, doesn't that go against your morals or something?"

Tristan shrugged, he couldn't put his finger on exactly what it was about Rory that made him persist.

"But you're not going to give up?" Jack asked, knowingly.

"I'm in too deep," Tristan admitted.

"You like her?" Jack was more than surprised.

"No, like you said, no one has ever refused me like her," Tristan explained with a grimace, "I can't just give up now."

"So it's about the chase?"

"I guess, the chase, the challenge, wounded pride, whatever."

"Got a game plan?" Jack asked, he was willingly to help his older brother.

"Not really," Tristan admitted, "Get rid of the boyfriend."

"Subtle," Jack remarked sarcastically, "Daisy cutter or A-bomb?"

Tristan shot his brother a glare in response.

"What? It's just a suggestion," Jack shrugged.

"Don't," Tristan answered simply.

Silence fell over the two brothers, each to their own thoughts. Tristan unable to stop thinking about the girl who turned him down each day. Jack trying to think of creative, yet plausible ways to help his brother. It didn't matter to him what Tristan's motives really were, all that mattered was that he had to help him get his way. It's what he'd always done. Plus, if Tristan, given he was the king of Chilton, couldn't get a girl, what hope was there for anyone else?

"There's a party at the MacCullums this Friday," Jack finally spoke up again, "Are you going to go?"

"I don't know, why?" Tristan shrugged, there were parties pretty much every night between Thursday and Friday, he never planned to go to any one specifically.

"Stacy Menzie broke up with her boyfriend."

"And?" Tristan prompted, turning into their drive way.

Truth was, Tristan knew exactly who Stacy Menzie is, he'd dated her sister once, even had sex in her father's rare vintage Jag.

"Stacy Menzie? Don't tell you don't remember the raven haired beauty of my geography class last year?"

"Huh?" Tristan continued to play dumb.

"Her father has a rare vintage Jag?" Jack said finally, even though he didn't know exactly why Tristan was so familiar with that little detail.

"Oh, Stacy-hot-legs, yeah I remember her. What about her?"

"Tristan, you ace every subject and you're this thick!" exclaimed Jack in frustration.

"You like Stacy, don't you?" Tristan grinned, "So?"

"So? I want you go to the party, so that I can go."

"Well, when you put it like that," Tristan smirked, "I don't know, I was kinda thinking of studying."

"W – Wha – What?" spluttered Jack, "Studying?"

"Yeah, since I'm so thick and all. So you'll have to find your own transport," Tristan grinned, climbing out of the car, "And before you decide against going, I heard from a very good source that Stacy has a little crush on you, though I have no idea why."

As much as Tristan was a confident player who got all the girls, he was also a caring older brother. And just like he couldn't leave his brother behind each morning, no matter how late he was running, he wanted Jack to get the girl.

--

AN: There will be more Rory in the future chapters and other than that I don't have much to say, but I'm sure you do… so press the blue button and type away! Oh and there's a new story up, Kiss the Sun, it's still a bit short on word count and chapters, but feed it reviews and it will grow!


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Gilmore Girls, actors, characters, plots, etc, that would be the wonderful people at WB. Although if I did, I'm pretty sure there'd be some big changes coughChadcough. Anyway if you do feel inclined to sue me, some people have strange urges and we must accept them for who they are, I'm currently flat broke so all you will get is a used textbook, probably on organic chemistry.

Thank you to: RavensWritingProphecies, rish, LoVe23, finnlover, Mamashirl, Ggluvr1987, Kisn4L, Aznangel4eva, mental head slap. Sorry for not responding individually. My excuse this time: I'm just too tired!

Happy Valentine's Day! Chapter 5 

He stared idly out the window, the teacher droned on about something or other, it was the last period for the week and he stopped caring after the third minute. He didn't care if the teacher called on him to answer a question, he could always rely on his intelligence and charm to get by. The bell rang, tearing him back to reality as students hurriedly collected their books and rushed out of the room.

"So your place or mine?" Rory asked coming up to his desk where he lazily gathered his stuff.

He froze, this had to be a dream. Rory could not possible be asking what she was asking.

"Well?" she tapped her foot impatiently.

"Thought you'd never ask," Tristan smirked lazily, covering his surprise.

"Oh, jeez," Rory groaned throwing her hands into the air with frustration, "Were you listening to anything Mrs Barrett was saying?"

"No," he shrugged.

"Oh great, that's just brilliant," Rory exclaimed, stalking out of the room.

"Rory, wait up," Tristan called chasing after her.

"Listen up and listen carefully," Rory said waiting just long enough for him to catch up, "I'm not here to waste my time. I have a goal and I won't be letting anyone hold be back."

"Okay," Tristan nodded.

"Okay?" Rory looked up surprised at his serious tone.

"Yeah, whatever you say, Mary."

"Ugh, don't call me that," Rory groaned.

"Why? Does it no longer apply?" Tristan smirked, "I guess Bean's not as slow as I thought."

"His name is Dean," Rory replied through gritted teeth, "And I don't appreciate being called the wrong name."

"I'll try my best," Tristan lied, but Rory didn't pick up on it, "So your place or mine?"

"Tristan!"

"What? You said it first."

"Fine, my house, since you don't seem to have a clue about what's going on," she scribbled her address on a piece of paper and handed it to him, "I'll see you at 8:30."

"What if I have date?" he asked.

"Cancel it," she retorted, melting into the masses of students that surged around them.

"Since when do I take orders?" he asked himself, watching her weave her way down the hallway.

--

"Did you know?" Lorelai asked her daughter, as they drove home from her parents' house following Friday night dinner.

"Mom, come on, if I knew that grandma liked ABBA, don't you think I would have told you?"

"You're a fifteen year old girl."

"And?" Rory looked at her mother confused.

"When I was fifteen, it was all about big hair, spin-the-bottle and keeping secrets."

"Mom, look at me. Do I have big hair?"

"No," Lorelai conceded, pouting jokingly.

"What have you always told me about spin-the-bottle?"

"Claim a cold sore, it always lands on the guy you never want to kiss," Lorelai recited her own rule.

"That's right. And since when do I keep secrets from you?"

"I'd say right now," Lorelai grinned slyly.

"Huh?" Rory blinked, confused.

"There's a hot boy sitting on our porch," Lorelai announced as they approached their house, "With a hot car. If I was fifteen again – "

"Oh no!" Rory gasped, finally noticing Tristan.

"What?" Lorelai asked worried, turning into the driveway.

"I totally forget," Rory cried, stumbling out of the car.

"Totally forgot what?" asked Lorelai, chasing after her daughter.

"Oh I'm so sorry," Rory said to the Tristan, ignoring her mother, "Have you been waiting long?"

"No, not very," Tristan shrugged with an amused smirk, "Give or take half an hour."

"Jailbait," Lorelai hissed to Rory.

"Oh, mom meet Tristan," Rory said, "And Tristan this is my mum."

"Ms Gilmore, it is a pleasure to meet you," Tristan smiled charmingly.

"It's Lorelai and we'll see about that," Lorelai returned, "And if you give us a moment, I'd like to have a word with my daughter."

She didn't wait for his consent, dragging Rory into the house and leaving Tristan outside on the porch.

"Are you blind?" Lorelai demanded.

"Um no, but are you insane?" Rory asked back.

"Then how did you fail to mention that Tristan is hot," Lorelai responded, ignoring her daughter's jab at her mental health.

"Jailbait," Rory retorted.

"No, not for me."

"I have Dean," Rory reminded her.

"And then there is Tristan. It's like comparing instant with Luke's, there's coffee and then there's _coffee_."

"Oh no Dean," Rory gasped.

"Exactly."

"No, I forgot to tell Dean that Tristan's coming over."

"Dean's not the only one you forgot to tell."

"Sorry."

"It's fine," Lorelai answered with a dismissive wave of her hand, "We've got bigger problems, like getting you're eyes checked."

"My eyes are fine!"

"Nuh uh, missy, you didn't tell mommy that Satan is hot, in fact you didn't tell mommy anything about Satan's looks."

"He's not that hot."

"And we're not that similar," Lorelai retorted sarcastically.

Rory was saved from further interrogation by a knock on the door.

"We'll talk later," Lorelai said going upstairs and allowing Rory to answer the door.

"It's quarter past nine, Rory," Tristan told her when she opened the door, "And as much as I love warming porches, I would actually like to get some work done because I did have to cancel a date to be here."

"Tristan, sorry, again," Rory apologised, "Come in."

"Thank you," Tristan said, walking into the house.

"And I'm sorry about being late. We would have being back by 8:30, but we found out my grandma really likes ABBA and it took a while get over it."

"Rory, it's fine."

"And sorry for making you cancel your date."

"You don't have to keep apologising."

"Sorry."

"So meeting parents already, I normally only do that if I'm dating the girl," Tristan smirked, changing the subject.

"I thought you wanted to do work."

"I do, but I was waiting on your porch for forty-five minutes and we've being standing here for another five minutes, I'm kind of giving up on whole work idea."

"No, you're not," Rory shook her head emphatically, "I need to do well on this project."

"By standing in hallway?" he quipped.

"The living room's that way, I'll go get my stuff," Rory answered, trying not to be annoyed by the way he had an answer for everything.

--

"Wow," Rory breathed, leaning back against the chair.

"What?" Tristan asked, looking up.

"It's 11:30," Rory announced, "We've worked for two hours straight."

"Well you can't deny that I have stamina," Tristan smirked.

"You know what your problem is?"

"I have a problem?" Tristan asked surprised.

"Mmhmm," Rory nodded, "You think that your constant vulgarity is actually attractive."

"And you know what your problem is?"

"I don't have a problem," Rory scoffed.

"You think that being innocent and studious and introverted are unattractive features."

"I'm not introverted!"

"It's Friday night."

"And?" Rory demanded crossly.

"And look at where you are," Tristan replied calmly, "You're studying."

"So are you," she retorted.

"And this is a first for me."

"What are you saying? That I should be getting drunk surrounded by countless other drunk fifteen year olds at some party where the generic pop/rock is played so loud the neighbours' ears are ringing for days afterwards?"

"There is nothing wrong in going to a party and you don't have to get drunk."

"So I can stand out like a sore thumb?"

"Not everybody drinks."

"Yeah right," she scoffed.

"Well for one, I don't."

"You don't drink alcohol?" she asked, eyes wide, incredulous at the thought.

"No, I don't."

"Why not?"

"For one, I'm an athlete. Two, it's illegal. And three, I just don't want to."

"Next thing you'll tell me is that you're are born-again Christian and a virgin too," Rory replied sarcastically.

"Look, it's been a long day," Tristan sighed, standing up, "And we're both tired. I need to go pick up my brother anyway. I'll see you Monday."

"Wait," Rory called, scrambling after Tristan as he left the house, "I didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm not upset," he sighed, turning around as he reached his car, "Like I said, it's been a long day."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Rory, I am sure."

"Okay, well, I guess I'll see you at school."

"I guess you will."

He slid into his car, not waiting for the goodbyes and drove away. Rory dragged her feet a little as she walked back to the house. She had pegged Tristan as the arrogant, player king of Chilton and she didn't like the fact he was more complicated than she'd first thought.

"Talk!" Lorelai ordered as soon as Rory re-entered the house.

"Mom!"

--

AN: Lots of dialogue, more than I'd like in one chapter, but that's how I spouted so that's what you get. Longer chapter, hope it makes up for the delay in updating.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Gilmore Girls, actors, characters, plots, etc, that would be the wonderful people at WB. Although if I did, I'm pretty sure there'd be some big changes coughChadcough. Anyway if you do feel inclined to sue me, some people have strange urges and we must accept them for who they are, I'm currently flat broke so all you will get is a used textbook, probably on organic chemistry.

**Photoboothromance:** Thank you for reading and reviewing.

**Rish:** Care to hazard a guess why Tristan doesn't drink? Thanks for reading.

**Ali:** Well, thank you for reading and reviewing and enjoying!

**FairyGirl07:** Want to take a guess at what Tristan's secret might be? Thanks for reading.

**GGluvr1987:** Thank you very much for reading and reviewing. I think a lot of people, including myself, depict Tristan as someone who drinks alcohol and a lot of it, so I thought I'd try something different, plus it kind of adds mystery to him.

**LoVe23:** Thank you for reading, I must say I like writing this story too, even if it can be a little hard.

**Finnlover:** Thanks, I aim for humour! And thank you for reading.

**Aisha:** No, Tristan's not a virgin, I think that would be too much of a stretch, he's just a non-drinker.

**Sarah:** Good review, I like it. Thanks for reading.

**Roryjessfan02:** I kinda planned this chapter before so I'm sorry to say, Lorelai and Rory won't have a Tristan discussion yet.

**Lucky2606:** I'll try not to make it too cliché, but you'll have to pull me up on that one if I do because I never notice cliches until I'm in the middle of one.

**Aznangel4eva:** Okay!

Chapter 6

After two solid days of guilt about her attitude towards Tristan worsened further by Lorelai's constant bugging for details, Rory headed for school with a promise to be nicer to Tristan. She would stop assuming he was after one thing only from her, a date, and instead treat him like a decent human being. However the promise didn't last long. Pressed up against her locker was Tristan and a girl, trading, no stealing each other's saliva.

"Excuse me!" she called over the din in the hallway.

Neither of the lip-locked party heard her.

"I need to get to my locker!" she tried again, forcing herself to be polite.

Still they ignored her.

"Move!" she yelled as loudly as she could.

The hallway fell silent and everyone stared at her like she was Martian invader.

"Someone got out of the wrong side of the bed," Tristan said with his trademark smirk, stepping away from her locker.

"Thank you," she said stiffly, ignoring his attempts to get a rise out of her.

"Had I known that this is your locker, I would have made an effort to pick another one," Tristan continued, leaning against the next locker, arm slung casually around the girl he had been making out with.

"You know very well that this is my locker," Rory replied irritated, yanking the locker door open, he had spent the last how ever many weeks ambushing her here.

"This is a school, Mare, there are a lot of lockers, it's hard to keep track of who owns which."

"If you don't have anything valuable to say, please leave, now."

"Come on, baby," the other girl said tugging at Tristan's hand, "She's obviously not worth it."

Rory spluttered in response, the nerve of that creature, that thing masquerading as a student! But it did the trick, Tristan left her alone. She closed the locker door and pressed her forehead against the cool metal.

--

"So, I take it you've given up?" Paris asked, taking a sip from her non-alcoholic punch.

"On?" Tristan asked, looking up at her blankly.

They were at some function, he had no idea where or why, but he was here and that was mattered to everyone else.

"Don't play dumb, it doesn't go with the cockiness," Paris snapped.

"Then explain dumb jocks, and no I haven't given up… if you're thinking what I think you're thinking, that is."

"Why is that you turn a simple query into a complicated exam-esque question?"

"I'm talented."

"Like a goldfish."

"Well I'm talented, three seconds at a time," Tristan grinned widely.

"You're impossible!"

"And proud of it. I've even got a badge."

"So prom's coming up, will you ask her directly or will you continue in this futile attempt to make Rory jealous?" Paris changed the subject completely, tiring easily of Tristan's mind games.

"I make no futile attempts at anything," he informed her.

"Then why isn't Rory jealous yet?" she asked, clearly sceptical of his confidence.

"Ahh, Rory Gilmore is jealous, she just doesn't know it yet."

"Neither does anyone, but you."

"And that's enough for me," he grinned charmingly.

"You're insane," she shook her head, why on earth was she talking to him.

"At least I'm not certifiable," he replied, eyeing her pointedly.

"So I should put two tickets down for you?"

"Was there ever a question?"

"About your mental health, yes."

"Tell me, how is that your delightful self made it on to the prom committee?"

"Are you being sarcastic?"

"Only on Saturday's."

"Today is Saturday."

"Well there you go," he smirked easily, "And another thing?"

"What?" she snapped irritably.

"It's ten-thirty."

"Oh, thank God," Paris sighed relieved, "I can leave now."

"See you later, Paris."

"Not willingly, Du Gray!"

--

AN: Please note, I'll will be taking certain situations from the actual show, but they may or may not be 'correct' or in the same order.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Gilmore Girls, actors, characters, plots, etc, that would be the wonderful people at WB. Although if I did, I'm pretty sure there'd be some big changes coughChadcough. Anyway if you do feel inclined to sue me, some people have strange urges and we must accept them for who they are, I'm currently flat broke so all you will get is a used textbook, probably on organic chemistry.

Chapter 7 

"So, Mary, what are you doing, queuing for prom tickets?" Tristan asked, approaching Rory in the queue for said tickets.

"Standing in a line looked like fun," she replied shortly, not bothering to look up from the current book she was reading.

"Is it?" he'd been watching her from afar for the last ten minutes.

"It was until five seconds ago."

"I agree," Tristan nodded, quite seriously.

"You do?" she looked at him in surprise.

"Yes, five seconds ago there were only four people left in front of you, now there are six."

"What?"

"Carrie Parsons let her friends jump the queue," Tristan informed Rory.

She had been so engrossed in the book she had been reading that she hadn't noticed anything.

"No!" Rory sighed, she'd spent a good half an hour waiting already, "Wait, you're doing the exact same thing."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are!" accused Rory, "You're going to stand here talking to me before anyone knows it, you've joined the queue."

"But I have no need to join the queue," replied Tristan.

"You're not going to prom?" she asked, looking at him strangely.

"I am going to prom, and you don't have to stand in the queue a second longer if you say yes."

"Say yes to what?" her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Going with me."

"Um, let me see, no."

"Why not?"

"I don't know, Tristan, you tell me? I have a boyfriend already."

"One who makes you buy the tickets?" he scoffed.

"He doesn't go to this school and what is so wrong with the girl buying the tickets?"

"Nothing, nothing, at all."

"Really?"

"I'm all for the women's movement, I think it's great."

"Sure you do. Doesn't it mess with your plan?"

"What plan?"

"The one where everything is about you? Where all the girls throw themselves at your feet and forget that they too were born with neurological function?"

"I'll like a girl with brains."

"Only that her breasts have to be bigger."

"Quality not quantity," Tristan replied.

"Whatever you say," muttered Rory.

"And I say that if you go to prom with me, it will be a night you'll never forget."

"No."

"No?"  
"I've already told you, I've got date for prom, my boyfriend," she was getting tired of his little games, "And I don't consider a night of making out under the strobe light and ending up in a dingy hotel room drunk as a night I'd never want to forget."

"I prefer the rose garden to the strobe light and who can pass up the presidential suite?" he smirked.

"I do," Rory answered, "And it doesn't matter how many times you ask me, I'm not going to prom with you."

"Fine, go to prom with apron-boy, in his beat up old truck, no less," Tristan snapped irritably, he walked away from her.

"Next?" a prom committee member selling tickets called, Rory looked up and realised it was her turn.

"Two tickets, please," she said.

--

"Why the long face?" Jack asked that afternoon as they drove home.

"Nothing," Tristan replied glaring at the road.

"Did you ask her?" the younger brother asked.

"Don't ask," Tristan answered, glaring even harder.

"She shot you down!" Jack exclaimed gleefully, "Again."

"Shut up," Tristan grumbled.

"Oh man, you have completely lost your touch," Jack literally bounced in his seat.

"Shut up, or I'll pull over and make you walk home."

"Fine, take the fun out of everything," Jack relented with a sigh, "What are you going to do about your tickets?"

"I don't know."

"You're still going to go right?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know much do you?"

"Didn't I tell you to shut up?"

"You did, but do you really want me to?" Jack grinned.

Tristan slammed his foot on the brake.

"And did I not say I'll make you walk home?" he asked his younger brother.

"Okay, okay I'll shut up," Jack promised looking slightly afraid.

"Good," Tristan replied, easing his foot off the brake.

"Geez, you're like an old man," Jack mumbled under his breath.

"I heard that," Tristan warned.

"Shutting up."

Jack fell silent, but not for long.

"You what would help you?" he asked rhetorically, "If you called her by her real name."

"Jack," Tristan warned.

"Because this Mary thing must get really annoying after a while," Jack continued quickly, "I mean, it would be like calling you, I don't know, Triscuit all the time. It sounds kinda like Tristan, but not exactly."

"Do you have a death wish?" Tristan asked, scowling at his younger brother.

"I'm finished now," Jack replied, "I just needed to get that out."

--

AN: I have no idea what a Triscuit is… anyone care to tell me? Oh and I've started the alternate version of Shades of Grey, so check it out.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Gilmore Girls, actors, characters, plots, etc, that would be the wonderful people at WB. Although if I did, I'm pretty sure there'd be some big changes coughChadcough. Anyway if you do feel inclined to sue me, some people have strange urges and we must accept them for who they are, I'm currently flat broke so all you will get is a used textbook, probably on organic chemistry.

**AN:** Thank you to everyone who told me what a triscuit is, I heard to referred to in the show, but I didn't know what it was. 

**Rockrose:** Thanks for reading and reviewing.

**FairyGirl07:** I'd give you a hint about Tristan's secret, but that would take all the fun out of it for me! Jack seems like a popular guy, I'm getting quite a few reviews about him. Thanks for reading.

**Rish**: Close but cigar, although you're more than welcome to keep guessing. Thanks fore reading.

**Photoboothromance:** isn't a 'line' and a 'queue' the same thing?

**Ali:** Thanks for reading and reviewing and liking Shades of Grey 2 as well. I love serial reviewers!

**Nancy:** thanks for letting me know about triscuits. Hope you like the story, even if you don't particularly like triscuits.

**Mamashirl:** thanks for reading and enjoying.

**Papaslittlecj**: not sure what you meant by 'dean is dumb that's a horrible insult', but thanks for reading anyway.

**Roryjessfan02:** Thanks for loving my story! I appreciate the review.

**LoVe23:** Thanks for reading and reviewing and enjoying!

**RavensWritingProphecies:** Thanks for letting me know about Triscuits, I don't think you can get them in Australia, maybe we have them, but with a different name.

**Meg:** thank you! Unfortunately this chapter doesn't have much dialogue, will make a note of it for future chapters.

**GGluvr1987:** And it's good to have you back!… I have no idea were you went, but still. Thanks for reading and reviewing.

**Eternalgorithm:** thanks for the info on triscuits, next time I'm in the supermarket, I'll have to find out whether you can buy them in Australia, we probably have the same or similar product, just call 'em something else.

**Finnlover:** yay, question! It takes me 30 minutes to an hour to write a chapter 1000 words long. If I've had a while to think about the chapter, I usually have most of the conversations (or at least the better ones) in my head already so it doesn't take very long at all. But sometimes even the shortest chapter can take the longest time. Thanks for reading and reviewing and the lovely comments!

**Aznangel4eva:** Jack's actually based on a friend of mine, he's always trying to 'help', of course we end up in bigger messes than we started with when he's around, but we love him anyway.

**Sham69:** Thanks for the info on triscuits, I think I'll just stick to Australian (though they're owned by an American company) biscuits (cookies) like Tim Tams and Shapes and Wagon Wheels… I'm hungry now!

Chapter 8 

He leaned against marble column, a glass of punch in his hand. His gaze wandered coolly about the vast room. He didn't want to be here, every cell in his body urged him to flee, but he couldn't. Imagine the talk! 'Tristan Du Gray, leaving the sophomore prom early and alone.' Unthinkable, impossible. Besides he couldn't abandon his date, Chrissy or Prissy or whatever her name is.

He stood with his back to the entrance of the reception hall where the Chilton prom was being held, he didn't want to see her arrive, especially not on the arm of that thing masquerading as her boyfriend. It did hurt him to see her with another boy. What could Dean provide her that was so much better than him? With each rejection, his pride took another battering. When she had refused to accompany him to the prom, he had entertained the idea of not coming at all, but the masochist in him wanted to be there, just to see her again.

"Tris," his dated whined, coming up to him with her best pouty expression, "I'm bored. Do you want to dance?"

"No," he replied shortly.

His eyes flicked around, in search of an excuse to ditch the girl, and that was his mistake. Just as he turned his head to look for an escape, he saw her.

"Do you want to make out?" his date persisted.

"No."

She glided through the entrance, an angel in blue chiffon. Her boyfriend took her coat from her, he offered her his arm, she smiled up at him. His heart stopped, this was torture. What was it about him that made her refuse him time and time again? What was it that made her immune to him, so oblivious to his efforts?

"Do you want to go somewhere else?"

"No," he did want to leave, but not with her.

He followed their progress across the room. He watched Paris, Louise and Madeline greet her, no doubt they would compliment her dress. Unlike most of the girls at the prom, she looked elegant and refined, but still young. He wanted to greet her too, to tell her she looked beautiful, but he doubted he could be civil in the presence of her boyfriend.

"Do you want – "

"No," he cut her off, not carrying what the question might have been.

Her hair was swept up into a fancy hairdo that he had no idea what to call, but it left her neck and back bare and all he could think of was how perfectly kissable her skin was.

"Well what do you want to do?" his date looked irritated now, being Tristan's date was supposed to be the best night of her life and this was turning into a total drag.

"Look, Missy," Tristan sighed, "I – "

"It's Casey," she scowled.

He felt bad then, he never slipped on anyone's name before, or at least he never let it show, it was all part of his charm. But then again, maybe Jack was right, he was loosing his touch.

"Casey," he corrected, he offered her his most charming smile, "Would you like to dance?"

Mentally, he begged her to refuse him, for once he wanted rejection, but he knew it was too much to hope for.

"Okay," Casey replied brightly, latching on to his arm.

He forced himself not to flinch as she touched him, instead plastering on a smile, he led her to the dance floor. He was a masochist.

--


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Gilmore Girls, actors, characters, plots, etc, that would be the wonderful people at WB. Although if I did, I'm pretty sure there'd be some big changes coughChadcough. Anyway if you do feel inclined to sue me, some people have strange urges and we must accept them for who they are, I'm currently flat broke so all you will get is a used textbook, probably on organic chemistry.

**Photoboothromance:** I actually don't know why I wrote the last chapter like that, it just happened, I guess that's the mood I was in… more action in this chapter.

**Rish:** Thanks for reading and hopefully you won't feel so bad for Tristan in this chapter.

**FairyGirl07:** Damn, you've worked out my ulterior motive! Thanks for reading and reviewing.

**Finnlover:** I think I might like you, you ask me questions! I like questions, makes me feel less like I'm talking to myself. And in response to your new question, I've traveled quite a bit and have met guys from around the world and Australian guys are amongst the best (if not the best ;D). Most Aussie guys I know are funny and fairly laid back, although they're pretty sports mad and they're very respectful toward women. Chivalry is definitely not dead, at least not amongst my male friends, they still hold doors open, won't let you pay for anything (no matter what you say or do) and they offer you their seat. Most love a good beer, but none that I know of are quite as constantly drunk as Finn, although there are several clubs and societies at my university dedicated to beer and drinking beer. Yeah Australian guys are pretty good, but that's not to say guys overseas aren't either.

**LoVe23:** Thanks for reading and see, I'm updating.

**Ali:** Thanks, darling. Tristan's not precisely sad, maybe this chapter will clear it up a bit, but I doubt he'd refuse a hug from a lovely person such as yourself.

**GGluvr1987:** I'm trying to make most of this story from Tristan's POV to add a little perspective and cos I'm too lazy to write the stuff he's not present for in the show.

**Charlotte:** actually fifteen people told me what a triscuit is, but it doesn't hurt to have one more explanation. Thanks for reading.

Chapter 8 

"You better not be expecting that your little party will bump everything else off everyone's social calenders," Paris accosted Rory as she walked to her locker, Louise and Madeline flanked her immediatly.

"Huh?" Rory blinked, looking at each of the three girls blankly.

"Oh and don't expect everyone to bring well-thought out presents, carefully chosen with your personality in mind," Paris continued her rant, "Personal shoppers don't care too much about that. Expensive, yes, wanted, no."

"Paris, I have no idea what you're talking about," Rory replied.

"Oh that's funny. You would think that the birthday girl would know about her own party," Louise commented pointedly.

"Not if it's a surprise party," Madeline added.

"There are invites," Paris answered, "Printed on handmade cream paper, embossed with gold, this isn't a ten year old's surprise party with clown."

"I still don't have any idea what you're talking about," Rory broke in.

"Here," Paris shoved her own invite into Rory's hand, "See, birthday party, for you, apparently."

"Oh no," Rory muttered, knowing exactly who was behind it all.

--

"Mom, you won't believe what grandma is doing now!" Rory exclaimed barrelling into their home.

"She's going skinny dipping?" Lorelai asked, looking up from her coffee and magazine.

"No! Eew, that's wrong on too many levels. Seriously though, she's throwing me a birthday party."

"And that's a bad thing because?"

"She's invited everyone from Chilton."

"Oh no," Lorelai breathed.

"You have to stop her."

"How? The last time someone tried to stop Emily Gilmore from throwing a party found themselves exiled a being the clown at kids parties."

"Mom, please," Rory begged.

"Okay," Lorelai sighed, "But you owe me big, like millennium fireworks big."

"I'm forever in debt to you," Rory smiled relieved, walking off to her room.

"You always were, from the moment you were born," Lorelai called after her.

--

"So how'd she take it?" Rory asked her mother the following day.

"Good, considering," Lorelai replied with an odd expression.

"Well that's great! No more Chiltonites than absolutely necessary."

Lorelai odd look turned into something more pained.

"Mom?"

"Promise not to get mad," she cringed.

"Mom?" Rory warned.

"It'll be so big so you won't even notice any of those snotty Chilton types. We can even get Kirk harrass them into leaving, he's a pretty convincing stalker."

"What did you do?"

"Mom kind of thinks that she won't be hosting a birthday party for you because Stars Hollow is throwing one for you on the same right."

"What happened? You used to be so strong."

"It'll be okay."

"I should hope so."

--

Despite the last minute change of location, Rory's birthday party was huge. Luke, Taylor and Sookie provided the food, but they were starting to worry that they might run out. All of Stars Hollow had turned out and, Rory noticed, that most Chiltonites from her grade were also there too.

--

He had arrived, fashionably late, but it wasn't like she had noticed him anyway, flitting around groups of people he didn't recognise. She was relaxed and happy, laughing and dancing around with her mother. The only people who noted his arrival were all Chiltonites. He scowled slightly, if this had been a regular Hartford party, only a passable number of his fellow students would have been present, but it seemed that their entire grade was here. Probably more curious about the little town than any genuine interest in Rory, he thought.

"Why don't you cut your losses and walk away now?" Louise asked him noticing him following Rory around, "No one would think less of you."

"It's not that simple," Tristan replied with a sigh, "And I would think less of myself."

"Only if you're emotionally involved," Louise answered with a knowing look.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tristan frowned.

"Are you in love with Rory Gilmore?" she asked bluntly.

"No!" he exclaimed.

"Are you sure? Because you can't deny that she's no longer a conquest."

"I know that," he replied softly.

"So you admit you are in love with her?" she smirked, triumphant.

"No, I'm… intrigued, confused by her," he couldn't really articulate what it was exactly about Rory that made him continue pursuing her.

"How so?" Louise asked, confused by him.

"I don't understand why she refuses me."

"She has a boyfriend," she pointed out.

"Even before he came along."

"Tristan, you can have any girl, why get worked up over her?" Louise asked the question that so many of their fellow students wanted to know.

"That's exactly it!" he exclaimed, "Why can I have any girl, but her? What is it that she sees about me that she doesn't like?"

"Well, you've dated more girls than an all-female production of Cats," stated Louise, "You've got more ways for saying you want sleep with her than Eskimos have words for 'snow'. You've possible the biggest flirt ever."

"That doesn't stop any other girl wanting me, it doesn't stop you," he eyed her pointedly, reminding her that she did hit on him at least once a day."

"Tristan," Louise sighed, not knowing exactly how it explain the curious phenomen to him, "Most girls you date are from our world and they know the stories of how great you can be. Or if they're from the outside they are so overwhelmed by you that they can't say no."

"And Rory?" he asked, in a rare instance where he was actually using her proper name.

"She's from the outside and also clearly unimpressed by anything you have to offer."

"That'll change."

"Give it up already. And you shouldn't have to change for just one girl."

"Have I ever given up at anything?" he asked.

"No… but then you've never had to fight for anything either."

"You have so little faith in me."

"No, I have more faith in Rory," Louise replied with a half-smile.

"Oh, look there's Eric," Tristan pointed out to another Chiltonite, "Didn't you say you were interested in him?"

"Isn't he with Krista?" Louise asked, her interest peaked.

"They broke up," Tristan replied, actually he had no idea what Eric's status was, he just wanted to distract Louise.

"Well I better go say hello," she smiled to herself, fixing her hair, she stalked off without a backward glance.

Tristan sighed in relief when he was alone, he could go back to studying Rory.

--

"So do I get a kiss?" Tristan asked, finally working up the courage to approach Rory, it helped that she was alone.

"No, the birthday girl isn't supposed to give the kisses out, she's supposed to receive them," Rory replied lightly, she was in too good a mood to let Tristan's attitude get to her.

"Well, then would the birthday girl like a kiss?" his eyes twinkled, filled with mischief.

"No, I – " she started to protest, frowning.

He kissed her chastely on the cheek and she gaped at him stunned.

"I wasn't expecting that," Rory replied, quietly impressed that he hadn't kissed on her lips.

"I can tell," he smirked, "You were thinking more along the lines of this…"

He kissed her again, but the second kiss was longer, on her lips and left her actually wanting more. She immediately banished the thought, she had Dean. Dean was good and kind and sweet. She stared at Tristan in shock, unable to comprehend what he'd done, she saw he start to smirk, she wanted to wipe the smirk, she wanted to wipe the smirk of his face, but she was beaten by blur that almost knocked Tristan over.

"What the hell are you doing?" Dean demanded, shoving Tristan, "That's my girlfriend."

"And I'm sure Rory appreciates your sense of ownership," Tristan retorted, not backing down

"Tristan," Rory warned.

"No, Rory, you shouldn't have to be with a guy who thinks you belong to him," Tristan shook his head.

"Shut up!" Dean yelled, getting aggravated.

"You want something, Bean?" Tristan taunted, "Where's your apron?"

Dean lunged at Tristan, but he dodged easily.

"Stop it!" Rory screamed at the two boys.

Reluctantly they calmed down, glaring at each other.

"Tristan, I want you to leave now," Rory ordered.

"But – " Tristan began.

"No, I'm serious," Rory replied, "Wait, actually go to my house, wait there, I want to talk to you."

"Rory," Dean warned, scowling as Tristan walked to Rory's house.

"Dean, I just need to talk to Tristan, I'll be fine."

"You sure?" he asked, doubt apparent in his face.

"Yes," Rory nodded firmly, "I'll be back in a few a minutes."

She didn't wait for her boyfriend's response before hurrying off after Tristan.

--

"Why'd you do that?" Rory demanded, approaching Tristan who was standing on the porch.

How could he explain to her, his need to know what she tasted like, to know whether her lips were as soft as they looked like?

"I know it was wrong… I'm sorry," Tristan sighed.

"You should be!" Rory exclaimed.

"Rory, I – "

"I think you should leave now."

He wanted to say so many things, but he knew it would be pointless. With a sigh, he nodded his acknowledgment and left her standing by herself on the porch.

--

By Monday, Tristan was feeling beyond remorseful. He arrived at school early for once, staking out a spot beside Rory's locker. He bit his lip, seeing her disappointment when she noticed him there.

"Rory, what do I have to do to make you realise I am sorry?" Tristan asked before she could speak, "I'll do anything you want."

"Anything?" Rory asked, the possibilities were endless.

"Name your price," he smiled as confidently as he could, inside his was afraid of what she might say.

"Go on a date with Paris," she replied almost immediately.

"What? Why?" Tristan frowned in confusion.

"You said anything," she threw back at him, smiling a little on the inside, "Anyway, Paris likes you, a lot."

"Okay," Tristan replied softly.

--


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Gilmore Girls, actors, characters, plots, etc, that would be the wonderful people at WB. Although if I did, I'm pretty sure there'd be some big changes coughChadcough. Anyway if you do feel inclined to sue me, some people have strange urges and we must accept them for who they are, I'm currently flat broke so all you will get is a used textbook, probably on organic chemistry.

**AN:** Thank you to my lovely reviewers:

Photoboothromance, rish, Bethany Inc, Ali, LoVe23, finnlover, Shannon, FairyGirl07, meg, GGluvr1987, roryjessfan02, ddani, LeoAngeldust.

Sorry for not responding individually, but I want to update quickly now that I have a chapter to post, but that's not to say I don't appreciate the time and effort you put into reading and reviewing.

Chapter 10 

Tristan was waiting for Rory, at her locker, his expression unreadable, his posture tense. Just seeing him there made her want to dawdle, stretch out the short walk down the hallway to her locker for as long as possible.

In the week or so since Rory's birthday party, Tristan's behaviour had become more erratic. He would come up to talk to her, open his mouth to speak before turning sharply on a heel and almost running away, leaving her staring confusedly in his wake. When Rory tried speaking to him, he would either ignore her or make up a lame excuse to leave.

All this confusing behaviour made Rory wary of Tristan and hence made her dawdle when she saw him waiting for her. Finally he looked straight at her, their eyes locking in an intense dual and she had no choice but to approach him.

"I've got to meet Dean," she announced.

Spinning the lock and banging the door open, she tried to be brisk as she shoved books into her bag. She message clear, 'Whatever you have to say, make it quick'.

"Why Paris?" Tristan demanded.

"Why not?" Rory shrugged.

She had no idea what her date-Paris condition was doing to him. His head was a mess, he kept waking up in cold sweats and his wearing the same shirt two days in a row!

"Why not any other girl?"

"Like I said, Paris likes you."

"So do a lot of other girls. I mean, what about Maya Richards, for example?" Tristan pointed out, nodding in the direction of the girl standing half-hidden behind a large indoor palm tree, staring at Tristan with a weird, almost obsessive expression.

"I don't want to be sued for mental scarring."

"You think Paris won't scar me mentally?"

"I wasn't talking about you," Rory frowned, closing her locker, "Maya's going to need years of therapy when she finds out you're not all 'that'."

"That's real funny," Tristan muttered sarcastically.

"I've really got to get going," she tapped her watch.

"Look, is there no other way around this?"

"Nope. You take Paris on a date and I'll forgive you for you're appalling behaviour at my party."

"What if I want to date someone else?" he knew he was whining, but he was getting desperate.

"Then date 'em. But until I hear from Paris about how wonderful the date was with you, I don't want anything to do with you."

"But – "

"I don't want to hear it."

--

"So let me get this straight, in order to get to the girl you want, you have to date someone who sees Mary as her main competition?" Jack asked, as they drove home.

"Yeah," Tristan sighed, dejectedly.

"Man, I'd say I'm real sorry for you, but I'm fresh out of sympathy," Jack sighed, "You used it all up last week."

"God, you really need to invest in bus ticket," Tristan scowled, "In fact, isn't you're birthday coming up? I'll buy you a ticket as a present."

"Aww, but I really wanted the new Matchbox cars," Jack whined playfully.

"Fine, a bus ticket and a Matchbox car," sighed Tristan.

Jack glanced at his brother in confusion, Tristan's face was dead serious.

"Uh, you know I'm kidding about the Matchbox car, right?" Jack asked, worriedly, "I mean, I really don't want a toy car. I'm turning fifteen, not five."

"Sure, sure," Tristan waved a hand dismissively.

For the rest on the drive, Jack was silent, furtively shooting glances at Tristan, anxious for any sign that his brother was joking.

"So, er, what are you going to do?" Jack asked, giving up trying to read Tristan's inscrutable expression.

"The Jamieson's are having a party Friday night," Tristan shrugged nonchalantly.

"You're going to take Paris Gellar to the Jamieson's party?" Jack stared incredulously at his brother.

"No," Tristan replied, pulling a face, "Do I look stupid!"

"Well, I – " Jack couldn't resist, but Tristan was quick to cut him off.

"Don't answer that!"

"Right, so the Jamieson's party?" Jack prompted.

"Yeah, I think I will go to it," Tristan nodded.

"Can I come too?" Jack asked, his expression hopeful.

"Maybe next year," Tristan responded vaguely.

"But you said that last year," Jack whined.

"And I'll say it again until you stop acting like a five year old," Tristan scolded his brother, "Maybe I will get you the Matchbox car."

"Oh man, how many times do I have to say I was kidding," Jack sighed.

Tristan stopped the car in outside their garage and Jack bolted into the house, missing Tristan's playful smirk, which would have assured him that his brother was just pulling his leg.

--

The Jamieson's party. Despite being renowned for its freely flowing beer and even looser girls, it was not the biggest party of the weekend, that honour went to Madeline. But Tristan's expected appearance at Madeline's party was exactly why he needed to attend the Jamieson's event the night before. He needed a date, an easy pick-up.

There was no way Tristan could go to Madeline's without a date, in the eyes of his fellow Chiltonites that was on par with end-of-the-world, but between Rory and the Paris-issue, Tristan didn't have time to find a date. So it was either resorting to flicking through the Chilton yearbook for a girl he hadn't dated get or picking up at the Jamieson's. Going by probable success rates, the later was the more feasible option.

--

AN: A short, filler chapter. I promise the next one will much longer and with more action.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Gilmore Girls, actors, characters, plots, etc, that would be the wonderful people at WB. Although if I did, I'm pretty sure there'd be some big changes coughChadcough. Anyway if you do feel inclined to sue me, some people have strange urges and we must accept them for who they are, I'm currently flat broke so all you will get is a used textbook, probably on organic chemistry.

AN: okay something a little dodgy happened and FF posted the wrong version of this chapter, so here I am, trying again, hopefully it'll work this time.

LoVe23: Thanks for reading and reviewing and look! Two updates on the same day!

Rish: Thanks for taking the time to read and review.

FairyGirl07: No Jack in this chapter, but there's plenty of other action. Please enjoy. And thank you for reading and reviewing.

Photoboothromance: So you've taken offence to the Rory in this story? Rory's just being Rory, Tristan's always rubbed her up the wrong way. She's annoyed with his behaviour at her party, not to mention his constant pestering despite knowing she has boyfriend, wouldn't anyone be a little testy after going through that? As for the pairing, just cause this is meant to be a Trory, doesn't mean likeable-Rory is going to be in every chapter, that's the drama of it. And why would you want to beat the living hell out of her (or anyone)?

Chapter 11 

He strolled into Madeline's parents' expansive house, his entourage trailing behind him, close enough to be called his 'entourage', but far away enough to give him his 'space', whatever that meant. On his arm was tonight's lucky girl, long blonde hair, long slender legs, he hadn't really looked beyond those two features. Anyway she had been the prettiest girl at the Jamieson's. Together they made the rounds. He, the recipient of many wistful stares and back slapping. She, on the receiving end of pouty glares and unsubtle wolf whistles.

"Tristan," the sultry voice belonged to Louise who was staring at he and his date with a knowing expression, "Aren't you going to introduce us?"

"Louise, this is Summer. Summer, meet Louise, my friend."

"Friend?" Summer echoed, doubt apparent in her tone.

"Yes, sugar, friend," Louise replied, her tone patronising.

Tristan sent her a look of warning, which she pretended to not notice.

"So how did the two of you meet?" Louise directed the question to Tristan's date.

"At a party, yesterday," Summer answered quickly.

"The Jamieson's?" Louise raised an eyebrow at Tristan.

Louise was surprised that he would resort to finding dates at the Jamieson's, was Tristan really that desperate? Guess that explains a lot, Louise thought, taking in the other girl's halter top and tiny mini-skirt that showed off her long tanned legs.

"Er, yeah," Summer answered with a frown, unsure of what to make of Louise's pointed stare at Tristan.

"So are you a Sophmore?" Louise asked, softening her tone a fraction, she had to pity Summer.

"Yes, at Cornwall Academy," Summer nodded earnstly, "My dad's in internet advertising. He's making a stack a cash, so now my brother and I can go to private schools."

"How lovely for you," Louise's smile was saccharine sweet.

"We should get something to drink," Tristan finally spoke up, preventing any further babbling from his date, "I'll see you later, Louise."

"Where'd you really find her?" Louise whispered in his ear as he passed her, "Are you sure she's not a cyborg?"

He didn't dignify her questions with answers, instead hurrying away as quickly as possible.

--

After a second drink and a couple of dances, Tristan left his date in the company of a few Chilton girls, claiming he needed to use the bathroom. Of course that was a lie, he had heard whispers that Rory was at the party and curiosity got the better of him.

When he started out on his hunt-for-Rory expedition, he had forgotten how maze-like Madeline's house was. Rabbit warren corridors spiralled out at every turn. An hour passed by and he still had not found her. Reluctantly, Tristan gave up the search and decided to check on his date. But it wasn't until half an hour later before he found Summer and what a way to find his date.

In a spare bedroom, there was Summer, in a tangle of limbs, sandwiched between two guys Tristan vaguely remembered from somewhere, in nothing but her underwear.

"Summer?" his voice strained with shock.

Instantly the three burst apart.

"Look, Tris – " Summer began, trying to sound apologetic and failing miserably.

"What the hell are you doing?" Tristan demanded, "And for fuck's sake, put some clothes on!"

Suddenly disgusted with the whole situation, Tristan stormed out of the room, Summer running after him, just managing to pull her clothes back on.

"I was bored," Summer tried to explain, catching up with him as he stormed from room to room, entering at random, "I came here, with you, looking for some fun and it was great before you suddenly disappeared on me. What was I supposed to do?"

"Try looking for me," he spat, spinning around angrily to face her.

"I did, I was and then I bumped into Ioan and Derek."

The Lacey twins, soccer stars at Cresthall Prep School. Now he remembered them. The two idiots, who pushed all the rules in the wrong direction on the field, the two of them caused too many reckless injuries. Of course girls were quick to forgive them, claiming they were the hottest pair of identical twins without modelling contracts. Tristan, on the other hand, could not forget the game when one of teammates had to be stretched off after colliding with the Lacey twins with a sickening crunch.

"And what?" Tristan scoffed, "You tripped and fell into a threesome?"

"Look, Tristan, you're a great guy," Summer began with the well-worn statement, Tristan rolled his eyes in response, "No, I'm serious, you are a great guy, but being with you is way too intense. It's like you want a long term relationship after two days, I'm fifteen, not thirty. And another thing, when you look at me, you don't really look at _me_, you look past me and I keep wanting to turn around and see what it is that's so interesting. Something tells me, it's another girl. If you don't want to be with me, don't."

"So that's it?" he asked in disbelief, he had never been dumped before, it was always the other way around.

"Yeah," Summer nodded slightly.

"Er, do you need a ride home?" Tristan asked, unsure of what to do next.

"No, Derek and Ioan offered."

"Right," great, now he had been shot down twice by the same girl in a space of a couple of minutes.

Summer turned around, linking arms with Derek and Ioan who had trailed after them, she allowed them to lead her away. Tristan turned a slow circle, running a hand through his hair, he finally noticed the other people in the room. Most had already whipped their mobile phones out, busily messaging and calling to inform people about the latest drama in Tristan's life. Any annoyance Tristan felt at being the centre of the gossipers' world immediately died when his eyes landed on another occupant of the room. Rory. Curled up in a leather armchair, a book open in her lap, staring at him with open pity. A surge of frustration and hurt burst into his heart and with that, he bolted from the room.

--

He sought refuge in Madeline's music room, one of the few empty rooms in the house, and that is where Rory found him. His fingers danced expertly over the keys, the sound loud enough to mask her entrance into the room, the melancholy tune tugged at her heart.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly when his paused in his playing.

"Why do you care?" he replied with a question of his own, if he was startled by her presence, he hid it well.

"Why can't I?" countered Rory.

"Given our short, but turbulent history…" he let the insinuations hang between them.

"It's just a question," she tried not to sound defensive.

"Or maybe you're here to gloat. The humiliating demise of Tristan Du Gray. Care to flaunt your own perfect life while you're at it?"

She sat down on the piano bench beside him, uninvited and he shifted uncomfortable at their sudden close proximity.

"Dean and I broke up," she revealed quickly.

"Oh," he whispered, feeling like an a idiot for his earlier taunt, "He's a fool."

"He said he loves me."

"That's usually a good thing," he frowned, not understanding what she was trying to tell him.

"I couldn't say it back," she admitted.

"Oh," again he felt like an idiot, could he stick his foot further into his mouth?

"So we broke up."

"Great we can start our own club," Tristan said with false cheeriness, "I'll be founder, you can be president. We'll call it relationships-suck, we'll have a catchy jingle, lurid coloured t-shirts and tea-and-sympathy nights."

"Tristan – "

"Okay, fine," he sighed dramatically, "You can pick the name and the t-shirts… and tea-or-coffee-and-sympathy nights. What d'ya say?"

In response, she closed the short distance between them, pressing her lips againsts his. It took Tristan all of half a second to realise Rory was kissing him and it took him a half second longer to respond. Taking control of the kiss, he begged entrance into her mouth. Rory could feel her whole body start to melt into the soul-searing kiss. The last kiss that had been this good was – Oh God! The birthday party, Dean, 'I love you'.

As the memories flooded back, she pulled away quickly, her heart filling with regret and her eyes with tears. A tiny sob escaped her lips and she ran from the room. Dimly she was aware of Tristan calling after her and faintly she heard a dramatic crash, like a hand slamming down on piano keys.

--

After Madeline's party, the last day of the school year couldn't have come a longer quick enough. For the past couple of weeks, Rory had kept her head down and avoided Tristan at all costs. For his part, Tristan did not exactly confront her either.

As she walked to the bus stop – she and Dean still had not resolves their differences – she tried to think of ways to amuse herself though the long summer holiday. She was part way through a list of ideas for prank calling Michel when Paris caught up with her.

"Gilmore," Paris used her standard greeting.

"Paris," Rory tried not to be annoyed by the intrusion.

"I've been wanting to talk to you all week."

"Can't it wait until school starts again?"

"That's months away," Paris frowned.

"Fine, Paris, what is it you've been dying to tell me?"

"I went on a date… with Tristan," Paris informed her with a wide grin.

"What?" Rory asked hollowly.

"It was really nice, simple but nice," this girlish behaviour was just about as un-Paris like as anyone could imagine, it was a nightmare, "Dinner at the Parke, that new restaurant that has been getting rave reviews and they actually know what Swiss lime-scented spring water is. Then we went to a French film festival, gourmet popcorn, no subtitles. Tristan was the perfect gentleman."

"That's great," Rory forced a smile.

"Isn't it?" Paris rushed off, leaving Rory to add to her Summer to-do list. The newest addition: Work out what is going on with Tristan Du Gray.

--

AN: See, did I not promise longer and more action? What did you think? Please let me know. The little button on the bottom left has your name written all over it, press it! Here's another question: Jess vs Tristan, who do you think would win that one? On one hand, Jess does have the street fighter aura to him, but surely military school would have taught Tristan a couple of things.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Gilmore Girls, actors, characters, plots, etc, that would be the wonderful people at WB. Although if I did, I'm pretty sure there'd be some big changes coughChadcough. Anyway if you do feel inclined to sue me, some people have strange urges and we must accept them for who they are, I'm currently flat broke so all you will get is a used textbook, probably on organic chemistry.

**AN:** Like I said in my AN for Shades of Grey Version 2 Chapter 25, I'm really sorry about the delay, but I won't waste any more of your time and will get straight to the story.

**Thank you to:**

RavensWritingProhpecies

Photoboothromance

Rish

FairyGirl07

LoVe23

Riotgirllina

Ess3sandra

Ali

Bethany Inc

PDLD-LIT-TRORY-EXILIR-OF-LIFE

GGluvr1987:

Callista Wolfwood

Ashley love the effort and thought you put into my silly random question.

Smilefortina: thanks so much for the lovely comment on my writing style. I try to make each story a little different, but it's hard keeping track of each style.

4ever.

Chapter 12

"Gilmore," Paris nodded to her as she approached her locker.

"Hey Paris," Rory returned, "How was your holiday?"

"Good," Paris replied shortly.

"She means she spent three weeks in the south of France surrounded by hunky, hunky boys in nothing but tiny, tiny Speedos," Louise added, walking up to them.

"Louise!" Paris exclaimed, turning bright red.

"What? Just telling it like it was," Louise shrugged, before turning back to Rory, "It was a summer of love for young Miss Gellar. A true awakening."

"I thought you and Tristan were, you know, dating?" Rory asked, trying not to sound awkward or prying.

"We went on a couple dates, it didn't really work out," Paris shrugged, unconcerned.

"It's just you seemed really excited," Rory persisted.

"It was just a crush," Paris replied.

"Enough about Paris," Louise cut in, "What I really want to know is, how was your summer, Rory?"

She eyed Rory with an expectant, knowing expression.

"It was fine," Rory replied vaguely.

"Fine enough to be driven to school in a certain truck that pretty much had a reserved spot in the visitor carpark last year?" Louise continued with a sly smile.

"Dean?" Paris asked, looking very interested.

"We worked things out," Rory shrugged, not wanting to go over the details.

"Ahh, true love," Louise sighed knowingly, "Comprise, comprise, comprise."

"So, Paris, you're going to the Franklin meeting this afternoon?" Rory changed the subject quickly.

"Not very subtle, Gilmore," Paris raised an eyebrow quizzically, "But I'll allow it this once. Yes I am going to the Franklin meeting this afternoon."

"Good, well I'll see you there," Rory nodded.

The bell rang, ending Louise's chances of finding any more dirt on the Rory-and-Dean issue.

--

Tristan strolled into class seconds after the bell rang. He ignored the teacher's disapproving glare, instead his eyes automatically sought out a certain person. Inside he sighed, relieved, no slender blue-eyed, brunnette girl with a strong affection for coffee. He caught the eye the another boy with an empty seat beside him, they shared a nod, manly acknowledgment.

"Hey, man," the other boy said as Tristan slid into the empty chair.

"Hey, Miller," Tristan greeted him.

"How was your summer?" Andrew Miller asked.

Andrew Miller and Tristan were part-time friends. Like many of their fellow Chiltonites, they had known each other since their diaper-days. By eleventh grade, almost fifteen years of knowing each other, they couldn't really call each other acquaintances, but they weren't bestfriends either.

"Summer was good," Tristan shrugged nonchalantly.

"Heard you went to Arizona?" Andrew pressed.

The rumours had been rampant through the Hartford society circles. Tristan, his brother and his father had passed over the usual summer haunts of Martha's Vineyard, the Hamptons, Europe or even LA for a trek through wilderness.

"Colorado, actually," Tristan corrected him.

The trip had actually been Jack's idea. Tristan's brother had a vivid imagination and from it had sprouted an idea for the three of them to have a 'boys' trip'. Their parents had agreed readily; so while Mrs Du Gray had spent the summer flitting between resorts and day spas in New Caledonia with a good book and vodka martini, the Du Gray boys had set off on a three week adventure holiday. Rock climbing, abseiling, white water rafting and fishing had ensued. It was one of the best holidays Tristan had ever been on.

"That's so out there," Andrew nodded, slightly in awe of the normal-ness of Tristan's summer.

"Sure," Tristan lifted an eyebrow quizzically, he turned his attention back to the teacher, not wanting to encourage Andrew more.

Thankfully the teacher stood, clearing his throat, he began the same spiel given every year on the first day of school.

--

Of course it was futile to try and avoid Rory all day and Tristan accepted his fate reluctantly as he stepped out into the hallway. Students surged around him, but somehow he maintained a bubble of emptiness around him as he walked to his first class. His eyes seemed attracted to every flash of brown hair and each brunette student stood out in his vision, however he still managed to miss the very person the was trying to avoid as she crashed into his personal space.

"Oh I'm so sorry," Rory babbled, not glancing up, "I've got English with Diaz and he locks students out if there late and I've got to get to Room 6H, which is about as far away as you can get – "

"It's fine," Tristan mumbled quietly, trying to side-step around her and hoping they would be going their separate ways before she realised who she bumped in to.

"Oh, hi," Rory said slowly, finally looking up.

"Rory," his tone was business-like.

"How are you?" the polite query was more of a reflex.

"I'm fine," he shrugged, "Didn't you just say you were running late?"

"I am," Rory nodded, still unable to move.

"6H is that way," Tristan pointed a thumb over his shoulder.

"I should get going," Rory said, but she still stood there staring up at him.

"Right, well I'm going this way," Tristan began to move away.

"Wait," Rory called out, "It was good seeing you, Tristan."

He paused, but didn't turn around before continuing on his way. Rory watched him retreat, wishing she had something more. Guilt niggled her, she had not been on her best behaviour around him last year and she knew she owed him a lot more than 'it was good seeing you'. The bell signalling the start of class rang out scattering students and with a sigh Rory went to English, knowing that she would be locked out.

--

"Hey, Paris," Rory greeted her on-off friend as she slipped into the Franklin meeting.

"Gilmore," Paris returned, scowling into space.

Other students were already gathered in little groups

"What's wrong?"

"Cerrick is what's wrong," Paris's scowl deepened.

"Gavin Cerrick? The editor-in-chief this year?"

"He's an idiot, wouldn't know how to run a one-page newspaper filled with ads, much less a serious and well-regarded one like the Franklin. We have a reputation to protect."

"Uh huh," Rory replied meekly, not wanting to aggravate Paris any more.

"He's wants me to write a society gossip column, apparently he thinks my surname is Hilton," Paris shot a glare in the general direction of the chief's desk.

"He's already handed out the assignments?" Rory frowned, she was sure she had arrived early for the meeting.

"Cerrick doesn't believe holding a proper meeting is necessary, instead, he's posted the assignments on the noticeboard."

"But – "

"Apparently he just looked at the sign up sheet and pulled assignments out of a hat or of the top off his head, they're both just as empty," Paris stood up, stalking her way over to the human interest sub-editor's desk, no doubt to give the poor girl a piece of her mind.

With a sigh Rory crossed to where the assignment listings were posted. Her brows drew together as she checked and rechecked the list. There was no 'Rory Gilmore' listed in any of the categories.

"Gavin, I think there must be some kind of mistake," Rory said, approaching the editor-in-chief's desk, "I signed up, but I don't have an assignment."

"Uh, you are?" Gavin asked, looking up from his computer.

"Rory. Rory Gilmore," she tried not to be upset that he did know who she was.

"Um, I guess you can work with Dan and Eric," Gavin replied, dismissing her with a wave of his hand.

"And what section's that?" Rory asked apprehensively, eyeing the two senior boys who were pouring over a sports magazine.

"Sports," Gavin looked up again, irritated at her questions, "Look do you want to be on the Franklin or not?"

"Thanks," Rory said meekly, sports it would be.

She headed over to where Dan and Eric were sitting, they were debating merits of full body swim suits.

"Just because the suit is streamlined, doesn't mean when you put it on, it'll make you swim faster."

"Yes, it does, that's why it's streamlined."

"It shaves off a few hundreths of a second, if that, but you can achieve that through training."

"But what if you have really great training plus a great suit? It's the whole package that counts."

"Um, hi, guys," Rory interrupted, the two boys looked up at her strangely.

"Yeah?"

"I'm the new sports writer."

"Okay, what sports are you interested in?"

"Actually, I'm not that into sport."

"You're not? Then why are you a sports writer?"

"Gavin – " she began to explain, but they cut her off.

"Say no more," they nodded understandingly.

"I'm Dan Reese, by the way," the skinnier of the two boys introduced himself, he nodded toward his friend, "And he's Eric Turner."

"Rory Gilmore, I'm a junior."

"Good," Eric nodded matter-of-factly.

"So what should I do?" Rory asked.

"Well you seem like you're pretty serious about writing given that your still here in spite of Gavin and since we can't let you just get our coffees…" Dan glanced at Eric and some kind of agreement seemed to pass between them, Rory bit her lip apprehensively, not liking the look.

"You're going to have to be a sports writer," Eric finished for his friend, "First up, football practice. You can do the run down of this year's prospects for Team Chilton."

"But the only thing I know about football is sometimes they call the ball a 'pigskin'," Rory replied worriedly.

"That's why it's called research," Eric grinned, dumping a pile of books, magazines and sports lift-outs into her arms, "Have fun, newbie."

"Oh and first training's tomorrow afternoon," Dan added as Rory stumbled to an empty desk.

Rory opened the first item on the pile the two boys had given her. It was a copy of the previous yearbook, the sports sections tagged with a Post-it. Flicking to the football pages, Rory scanned last year's teams. She recognised some of the faces, but one name sprung out. Last year's junior varsity captain and quarterback, Tristan Du Gray.

--

**AN:** I don't know how sports teams are separated in American schools (ie is there even a sophomore team?) so if anyone would like to tell me the basics, I would be very grateful. Until then, Chilton has freshmen, sophomore, junior and senior football teams. Oh and by football, I mean American football, which again I don't know a great deal about so a basic outline would be fantastic, eg how long does a game go for? Is it a summer or a winter sport? Thanks in advance.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Gilmore Girls, actors, characters, plots, etc, that would be the wonderful people at WB, now CW I think (it's been a while since I've seen anything GG related). Although if I did, I'm pretty sure there'd be some big changes *cough*Chad*cough*. Anyway if you do feel inclined to sue me, some people have strange urges and we must accept them for who they are, I'm currently flat broke so all you will get is a used textbook, probably on organic chemistry.

**AN**: Updating the last chapter: I've made a very minor detail change in the previous chapter, Tristan was the junior varsity team captain, not the sophmore team captain. Thank you to everyone who explained the set up to me. Also for the purposes of this story, Chilton only allows juniors and seniors (11th and 12th graders) to participate in the varsity team.

**AN:** Thank you to FairyGirl03, Mongoose187, Lifeisconfusing, Mamashirl, heavenleigh88, Ali, …, Joise, adslfaodf, LoVe23, anonymous, abercombiegirl786, smartmonkey101, trory-love08, Callista Wolfwood, BeautifulBlackRose, regina008, Ghostwriter. Apologies for the massive delay in updating

Chapter 13

Rory sat forward, notebook and pen poised to make her first insightful and interesting comments on football at Chilton. She was dreading the moment, but refused to let her inner demon-butterflies get the better of her. Just don't babble when you see Tristan, she commanded herself. The junior varsity and varsity players strolled out on to the deep green field, joking amongst themselves and playing about. It took all of ten seconds before the first of the boys noticed her presence in the stands.

"Lost?" Tristan asked, walking over to her, the other boys hung back, watching them with interest and whispering amongst themselves.

"Um, no," she replied, not bothering to think of a witty comeback.

"Is the library closed?" he asked, there was a slight edge in his voice and Rory wondered what it meant.

"No, I'm here on behalf of the Franklin."

"The paper?" Tristan frowned.

"No, the turtle," Rory retorted lamely, before blushing furiously, why her mother made her watch the children's television programme was still a mystery.

"Huh?" his frown deepened.

"Du Gray chatting up a girl," an amused voice broke in, saving Rory from further humiliating herself in front of Tristan, "Why am I not surprised?"

"I'm not chatting her up," Tristan muttered darkly to the tall African-American boy who had walked up behind him.

"You must be Rory Gilmore," the newcomer treated her to a lazy, confident grin, ignoring Tristan's glare entirely.

"Yeah, that's me," Rory replied with a weak, yet grateful smile.

"Andrew Taylor, varsity captain, at your service," he bowed slightly for effect, "Turner and Reese told me to look out for you."

Rory made a mental note to thank the two other sports writers, she was beginning to like them more and more.

"And I see you've met Du Gray, he was the best JV quarterback last year in this district and if he continues doing what he does best, he'll be varsity captain next year," Andrew said, grinning at Tristan like a proud father.

"Yeah well, we should warm up," Tristan finally spoke up, his tone was noticeably cool, "Coach'll be out here any second."

"Speaking of Coach, I had a word to him just before," Andrew continued, seeming to not notice Tristan's sour mood, "And he and I agree that you can be our special media liaison officer."

"What?" Tristan exclaimed, "No way am I doing that!"

Rory's eyes widened with surprise at the anger in Tristan's voice.

"Come on, Tristan, you know you want to," Andrew joked, "Hang out with a pretty girl, talk football, it's any guy's dream."

"Not this guy," Tristan answered curtly and starting to walk away.

"Hey, get back here," the varsity captain hauled Tristan back, he was now very serious, "This is a no-discussion situation, Du Gray. You _will_ help Rory with her column for the Franklin."

"And if I don't?"

"You're off the team," Andrew shrugged nonchalantly.

"What?" Tristan exploded, "You can't do that."

"I can't, but Coach can, I'm just the messenger."

Tristan turned slightly, catching sight of the wall of a man who was the head coach for the varsity team. The coach sent Tristan a meaningful look.

"What do I have to do?" he sighed, looking back at his captain.

"Glad you see things my way," Andrew grinned, the serious mood vanished, "Since today's first practice, Coach'll be taking things a little easier. You'll be sitting this one out, basically give Rory a run down of all things football, plus help out with names-to-faces and whatever else she wants to know."

"Taylor!" a voice of the coach boomed across the field, "Quit your yakking get your arse on the field. Now!"

"Gotta go," Andrew said, he winked at Rory, "Have fun."

Rory glanced at Tristan who was looking forlornly at the other guys who were now running through a series of drills. He looked like a little boy who had been told there was no more Christmas.

"Tristan," she called quietly to him.

She paused trying to think of what to say. 'It'll be fine' didn't seem quite right. He looked up, meeting her eyes briefly, before making his way over to the seat next to hers.

"I can talk to your coach if you want," Rory began, trying to sound as apologetic as possible, "I don't think he'll kick you off the team if you don't want to do this."

"It's fine, Rory," Tristan sighed.

"Are you sure? Because I hardly think it's fair that you – "

"I said it's fine," Tristan snapped, running a hand through his hair.

Rory fell silent, not sure what to say or do that wouldn't aggravate Tristan's bad mood further. In an uncomfortable silence they watched Tristan's teammates run through various activities.

"I'm sorry," Tristan said quietly, after what seemed like an eternity, "I shouldn't have snapped at you."

"It's okay, Tristan."

"I was rude," he shook his head slightly, as if chiding himself, "So what is it you want to know about football."

Rory studied Tristan's profile for a second, his eyes were guarded, belying his easy-going tone. Taking a deep breath, she flipped her notebook open to the long list of questions she had prepared. She could do this, she told herself.

--


End file.
